This makes me think of Venice. I am going to go there sometime in the next year with the boy and feckin ingest some gelato, dammit. And we’re going to make memories and no matter what happens between us we’ll always have the memory of standing somewhere in Venice eating an ice cream and in all probability having it drip down my face and onto my top. Which will be white and the ice cream will be chocolate so somehow it seems as though I have miraculously shat on my breast.
(this may or may not have happened before)